A Smile in a Storm
by CarmelaLake
Summary: Derek Morgan has a daughter, that he got custody of after her mother died. Young Dallas, thus grows up around the BAU and everyone's like family...except one certain member.


No matter what city you live in, it be my second home of Washington D.C, or the most unsafe city in the world, it's never a good idea to be out, walking the streets at midnight. There will be creeps, and they will not be much fun.

"Hey Red, want a hit?" I heard some guy call to me, from a few steps behind. I was walking back to my father's Washington D.C apartment from the bookstore, Kramerbooks, when I heard some douche try to grab my attention, but I kept walking. My hair was strawberry blonde, but in the fall, it always turned this deep red/burgundy that was easy to spot from a mile away. Unfortunately it also attracted the wrong type.

"Come on, Red! It's only a hit! It won't hurt you!" he called at me, but this time he was closer. Only about 10 steps behind. I quickened my pace. I could hear his footsteps and so did he. Within seconds, he was grabbing my wrist. I yanked it from him, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The creeper didn't realize I was stopped, and he ran into me, burning joint and all. I yelped really loud, and as I went to punch him, God knows where, he grabbed my face and started to shove his tongue down my throat. The stoner's grip was too strong, even though he was stoned out of his mind. I couldn't get away. Punching and kicking everything I could, he wouldn't move off of me. Before long, I was pinned to some bring building with his hand creeping up my shirt, toward my bra. Right as his nasty fingers were at the underwire, I felt his weight come off of me and heard a man's grunt. Collecting myself, I noticed a bigger man, kicking the life out off the stoner. It didn't take long to realize who it was.

"Dad! Dad! Stop! Don't kill him! I want to press charges on a living man!" I yelled, trying to pull my father off of the stoner. He finally got up and reached behind him. I saw the familiar flash of the silver handcuffs. Dad picked up the man and spun him around, forcing his hands behind his back.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law.." He trailed off as he called for back-up. Dad continued reading his rights as I leaned against the brick wall, hugging my bag close to my chest.

The Metro PD showed up within five minutes, hauling the crazy stoner away. Dad came over to me and wrapped me up in a hug.

"Are you ok?" He whispered into my hair. I nodded quietly, hoping to not start crying. Dallas Morgan did not cry.

"I'm just pissed, that's all," I mumbled. Pulling away, I looked down at my shirt, from when he ran into me with a joint in his hand. There was a small burn hole right in the middle of the 'o' on "No." I groaned and kicked the dirt. This was my favorite Jack Daniel's top too. Dad chuckled and hugged me again, leading me back to the apartment.

When I got back, I plopped down on the couch in the living room and laid my head back. It had been a long night, and I was ready to go to sleep.

"What were you doing out there, anyway?" Dad asked, giving me his usual 'Profiler Look', trying to read me. I sighed and rolled off the couch.

"Look, I was at Kramer's. They had a sale that if you tried one of their new coffee mocktails, then you got 75% off any of their young adult section. It was a win-win for me. I just happened to stay there too late reading," I said with a sigh, going to stand up. "I wasn't trying to cause trouble; I only wanted to read,"

I watched as my father looked me up and down and sighed.

"Fine. But please don't stay out that late again. We are in a big city. Act like it please," Dad said before going to his room. Watching him leave, I groaned and plopped back down. With a father in the FBI, and knowing what men do to women who are just walking down the street, I was constantly being watched by someone on the squad. Dad was just so protective over me, and he wouldn't let me do much of anything after dark. Said he was scared I would end up a victim without trying.

Having nothing else to do now that Dad had gone to bed, I pulled out my cell phone and my book. I had two unread texts from Spencer, a missed call from Penny and a voicemail from Cale. I figured that the texts from Spencer would be less harsh.

"Are you ok? Morgan is freaking out."

"Dal? Come on, if you answer, you get to invade my library"

I giggled slightly to myself and texted him back.

"I'm fine, sorry was at Kramer's, reading. Did you need something?" After I pressed send, I went back and listened to the voicemail from Cale.

"Hey Dally, it's me. Haven't heard from you all day. I just finished up over at the farm, everything is running smoothly. Call me. Bye" Cale's Virginia twang was heard without trying. I smiled to myself and decided I would call him after I called Penny. However, after trying two times, I kept getting sent to voicemail, so I left a message to see what she wanted before calling Cale back. He also didn't answer. I just locked my phone. No one wanted to talk, so I pulled out my book. I had opened to the first page as I heard my phone beep with a new text.

Spencer: Dal, are you busy right now?

Dallas: No, just reading. Why?

Spencer: I was working on a case and I'm kind of stressing out. I need to calm down. Can I come over?

Dallas: Yeah, totally. Dad just went to bed, but I doubt he would care. Want me to set up in the kitchen?

Spencer: Yes, please! I'll be over in fifteen minutes, if that's alright.

Dallas: Yupp! See you soon :*

I got up and went into the kitchen to clear off the table, before starting a pot of coffee. I looked down at my clothes and realized I was still wearing my Jack Daniel's tank top with the hole in it. I groaned and went into my bedroom and changed. I just threw on a black cami and a pair of camo boxer shorts. I was comfy, and I worked best that way.

By the time I was all changed, the pot of coffee was finished brewing. There was a knock at the door as I was pouring Spencer's cup and setting it on the table. I went out to the foyer and opened the door, to see Spencer's tired smile.

"Hey" he said quietly, with a tired look in his eyes. I smiled and moved, motioning him inside.

"So, what's going on?" I asked, leading him into the kitchen. As I passed the table to my seat, I touched the cup that had Spencer's coffee in it, and made sure it was still plenty warm. Crossing over to the fridge, I looked back at him.

"Any cream or sugar in your coffee?" I asked him, leaning against the half open door. Spencer chuckled and shook his head.

"No thank you. I like it plain, but thanks anyway," Spencer stated and I nodded, before grabbing a pink lemonade Realtree energy drink and sat back down. He gave me a look of confusion before shaking it off.

"I have all of my files, and read over everything, at least three different times, but nothing matches up. Even I can't figure out what's going on with this unsub, and we leave for Jeffersonville tomorrow. It's almost like all of these attacks are by different people, but in the same night…" Reid babbled. I laughed and shook my head.

"Give it here, let me look it over," I said, reaching over the table, grabbing the file folder. I didn't really realize that my boobs were starting to fall out of my tank top, but I didn't really think twice about it either, until I heard Spencer clear his throat. I looked up and saw him, face flushed.

"Um, you ok?" I asked, confused. He opened his mouth to talk, then closed it again, before opening it again and closing it for good and shaking his head. I sighed then shook my head before continuing reading the file. I looked back up at him, stumped.

"I don't know, bud. I can't figure it out. For some reason, I do feel like they're all connected though. It's weird; I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe we need to do a bit of research? Maybe on like twitter or something?" I asked, looking back up, but not quite meeting his eyes. They were lower. Before I managed to realize where Spencer's eyes were, I heard another throat clear. A lower voice. I didn't have to look up to realize my father was in the doorway. Dad was up.


End file.
